


liked the way you helped me escape

by FinalDestiny13



Series: CP2077 Writings from tumblr [7]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Can be seen as romantic or not, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gender-Neutral V (Cyberpunk 2077), Hair Brushing, Light Angst, M/M, Soft Johnny Silverhand, Soft V (Cyberpunk 2077), created by tumblr writing prompt, fellas is it gay to brush your ghost of rockerboy terrorist's hair?, i have been told that the end of this punched ppl in the gut which makes me happy, is how i normally think but my brain said nah for this, just know they care about one another bc how could they not, let johnny and v get the happy end they deserve together 2021, with your fingers?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:28:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29479953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinalDestiny13/pseuds/FinalDestiny13
Summary: "What's going through that gonk brain of yours?""Just thinkin’ about how soft your hair is.”===V can't sleep. Johnny helps.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand & V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Series: CP2077 Writings from tumblr [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152716
Comments: 6
Kudos: 74





	liked the way you helped me escape

**Author's Note:**

> _Anon asked: “I lie awake at night and imagine running my fingers through your hair.” (v / johnny)_
> 
> Here's the result.
> 
> Title is a lyric from Lewis Capaldi's _Someone You Loved._

V stares blankly up at the ceiling of their bed cubbie, hands folded against their stomach and eyes pinned on the dream catcher gifted to them by Misty but gaze unseeing as a multitude of thoughts traverse through their mind. The apartment is cloaked in darkness, the low hum of the vending machine at the foot of their bed a familiar tune, the dull noise of a darkened Night City thrumming outside their window even as night descends upon them, the faint sounds of an argument breaking out three doors down from them.

Noisy even at night.

V has never known true silence. At least, they hadn’t until they took a bullet to the head.

There’s a faint sound of static from nearby and they know without looking that their own personal ghost has made his presence known on purpose. V is expecting an insult to fly any moment now, about how they’re not sleeping when they should because a knife flew too close to their head today compared to usual. That it’s what happens when you haven’t slept in forty hours and are half dead already.

V blinks slowly up at the dream catcher as there’s a long, drawn out sigh before the bed dips next to them. They see out of the corner of their eye a head of dark hair.

“What’s going through that gonk brain of yours?” comes the gruff voice. There’s no hint of anger or irritation there. In fact, it sounds like Johnny is just as tired.

V exhales heavily, slowly, eyes slipping closed for a moment. If he’s asking, it means that Johnny is purposefully not paying attention to V’s thoughts of how exhausted they feel, of how much time they have left, of things they still need to do, they need to leave their mark, how they couldn’t save Ja-

“Just thinkin’ about how soft your hair is,” they murmur out slowly instead, eyes lazily opening as they turn their head enough to look at Johnny. The corner of their mouth ticks up slightly, seeing him stiffen, idly note that his vest is gone. His aviators too, they correct themselves, as Johnny looks at them over his shoulder.

Dark eyes narrow at V and the mercenary actually smiles at that, small as it is. Brown eyes roll before Johnny faces forward once more, but V can tell that the rockerboy is just as amused by their response.

The merc is surprised when Johnny glitches out of view, and before they can be saddened by the sudden loss of company, he returns. Only this time, he’s between their legs and chin tucked into their stomach, right below their hands, the rockerboy’s arms wrapped around their waist. V stiffens at the position, hands moving to push themselves up onto their elbows to peer down at Johnny, eyes wide.

Johnny huffs, mouth curling into amusement at a metal arm uncurls, hand clinking with the movement as it lifts to press against V’s sternum. “Lay down, idiot,” he says.

V does after another second, hands hovering awkwardly as they try to wrap their mind around this sudden situation. Another huff, this time of amusement and slight irritation, before a metal hand curls around one of their wrists. V let’s Johnny guide their hand until their fingers touch soft strands, their other hand following after mindlessly.

It’s soft. _Silky_.

V forgets that as much as Johnny can touch and interact with them, they can do the same.

“Don’t think so hard,” Johnny mumbles, pressing his cheek against V’s stomach and eyes slipping closed. The rockerboy hums lowly, pleased, when fingers card through his hair hesitantly at first before finding a rhythm. Johnny sinks further onto his little merc when nails scrape against his scalp and lets out a moan.

V halts immediately only to continue when Johnny turns to glare at them, arms tightening with a silent threat around them. V, while flustered by the sound, grins as they resume brushing Johnny’s hair.

They’re like that for some time. Hours maybe.

Long enough that V eventually stops, fingers still buried in silky, dark locks and breathing evened out in slumber. Johnny watches them sleep, stays where he is even though he has the opportunity to leave again. They may not speak of it, but his presence is a comfort to V. The one constant in the merc’s life as much as V is Johnny’s now.

The least he could do is provide V some comfort when it gets too much. Especially when they can look so peaceful, the weight of their responsibilities, the urgency as their life ticks down, vanishing for just a few moments in the safety of their apartment.

Johnny closes his eyes, even though he can’t truly sleep the way he is. But it’s nice being like this for awhile. Feeling like he was _real_ again.

Much like V, he could dream of _what if_ s. 

Of _what will never be_ s.

But he’s Johnny Silverhand. And no matter what he does or how hard he tries, everything he touches

_burns_.

**Author's Note:**

> yell at me on [tumblr](https://iwantedtobeadored.tumblr.com/)


End file.
